Let Justice Be Done
by Essande
Summary: Fenthick never should have died, but someone had to.


Disclaimer: Neverwinter Nights is the property of Bioware, Anita and Darien are fictional.

Author's Note: The more I think about it, the more I think of the what ifs that are accompanied with the death of Fenthick Moss. The plot would be dramatically different if he had lived…wouldn't it?

Let Justice Be Done

Darien pushed his way through the mob, the crowd ignoring his shouts to be left through as they chanted for justice to be done. Of course they wouldn't listen to him, he had no impact, his face was unknown. He, the coward that had used magic to save his own hide when the Academy had been attacked. Darien wasn't the best sorcerer in the world, heck he didn't even want to be one. His magic didn't even work properly most of the time and when it did he was using it to run away.

"E-excuse me!" Darien said, shoving past a half-orc who shot the spell caster a look of death. Darien didn't stop to think about it, his only goal to get to the tree in time. Fenthick Moss, cleric of Tyr was to be hung within the hour and Darien aimed to stop it. Fenthick didn't deserve death, being naïve wasn't a crime. Aribeth had trusted Desther too, heck everyone had. Darien shook his head, making ebon hair fall into his eyes. He quickly brushed it aside as he shouldered past a pair of somber looking elves dressed in clerical robes. An island of calm amidst a raging sea of people. The sorcerer didn't understand why Fenthick was singled out.

"Does no one here believe in redemption?" He cried; only those around him heard but no one listened. In that moment Darien paused. Why was he doing this? Why did he need to stop this at all? Darien's mind flew back to what he had seen earlier that day, what he had heard. Aribeth de Tylmarande crying on her sister Anita's shoulder. It had been…disturbing to see the Lady Aribeth in such a state, to see the expression on Lady Anita's face. She was at a loss, Anita who, since stepping from the Academy alive had seemed to know the answer to everything at loss. Anita had had no words, and Aribeth only tears. Darien didn't remember how long he spent watching the two, listening to Aribeth's sobs and Anita's humming. Nor did he remember hearing Aribeth asking her sister to leave because suddenly Anita was in front of him and Darien was looking into teary brown eyes.

Even in sadness Anita was beautiful. Everyone in the Academy had agreed that and Darien had been amongst Anita's many admirers. He had only caught glimpses of her in the corridors as their curriculums were different but that's all one needs to have an infatuation. Anita had also been Aribeth favorite, for more reasons than blood. The younger sister wanted nothing more than to earn Aribeth's favor, so Anita pushed herself past her limits, to the point of collapsing. If she thought it would make Aribeth happy Anita would do it. Aribeth could have told her to destroy an entire civilization and she would have done it. There was no doubt how much Anita loved her sister. Some accused her of idolatry against Tyr so much was her love.

"I'm lost…" Darien had been shocked at the words. Then he understood. Understood how dependant Anita was on Aribeth, so much so that her sister's moods were her own. Aribeth was dealing with conflicting emotions leaving Anita out at sea. "I'm lost…"

"Why are you telling me this?" Darien had asked. Anita looked at him in silence for a moment then smiled.

"Because you're not watching." And then she went on until bursting into tears held back, because she had needed to be the strong one while in that room. It was unsettling and Darien swore never to see Anita cry again.

That was why he was here, shoving through a crowd of bloodthirsty civilians. In order to make Anita happy Darien needed to make Aribeth happy and as far as he knew the only way to do that was to keep Fenthick Moss alive.

"Out of my way please! Um, excuse me! C-coming through." He was closer now, about two-thirds into the crowd, which was quite large despite the thinned population due to the plague, which was solely Desther's fault. Darien sighed as he dodged about a halfling with reddish brown hair picking pockets as he too moved through the throng. Darien had seen him in the temple, using the place as sanctuary. Darien didn't have time to think about the halfling, however, quite frankly Darien just didn't have time.

At last he stumbled forwards into a clearing, falling near the stool on which stood Fenthick Moss. A guard nearby yanked Darien roughly to his feet, meaning to push the Academy survivor back but Darien broke free of the man's grasp and promptly turned him into a statue. The spell was foreign to Darien, pulled from the air out of panic. The angered shouts from the surrounding crowd lessened before coming back in full force and Darien turned to Fenthick, who was looking at him as if he were insane.

"Be safe." Darien said, placing his hands on Fenthick's shoulders. The cleric opened his mouth to answer but whatever he said was lost to the sorcerer for Fenthick had been teleported away much in the same manner Darien had used to drop himself into a guard tower on the east wall. Where Fenthick was now though, Darien had no clue.

"People of Neverwinter! Hear my words!" He shouted, the voices quieted a bit. "You have been wronged, that is sure! You had not felt justified at the real enemy's death for only Desther was to blame! You called for Fenthick Moss's blood! Well now he is not here and who to blame! I am to blame! If you feel the need for justice find it in my blood, one innocent man's life for another!" The noise level rose once again and the guard and executioner hesitantly grabbed him, not wishing the same fate as the man Darien had turned to stone. Darien smiled as the rope was tightened around his neck, this was better. No one would think twice about his death and Anita would not cry again. Everyone would win. And that was his last though as he felt the stool disappear from beneath his feet.

Meanwhile Anita was in search of her sister. He face had been washed free of the tear streaks but worry was in her eyes.

"She must have gone off into the woods to be alone then." Anita said, when a cleric burst into the room.

"Lady Anita! You'll never believe it!" As Anita rushed from the temple Aribeth cried into the roots of a large tree, underneath a carving she and Fenthick had made when Fenthick had first kissed her. Aribeth had made it her place of comfort but now she wasn't sure why. A twig snapped and her head shot up.

"Anita?" She asked, sitting up and then gasping when she saw who it was.

"I'm afraid not." Aribeth shook her head, pushing the dark thoughts that had begun to gather away. Standing she embraced the cleric, almost as if to make sure he was real. "I thought by now you'd be dead Fenthick…I was beginning to doubt Tyr's justice."

"I think Tyr sent me an angel."


End file.
